


Broken Bone

by Spinning_Mouse



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Mention of Animal Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:35:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23383138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spinning_Mouse/pseuds/Spinning_Mouse
Summary: The Inquisitor leaves something behind. Leliana finds it and reflects on it. They talk about it.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	Broken Bone

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to take a break from animal crossing to work on WIPs but spent an hour doing this instead bc this is what i do during quarantine I guess.

“Your Holiness, this is too dangerous-”

“Cassandra.”

The Divine’s tone was kind, but firm, instantly stopping them both like a mother scolding her children. 

“This is the best chance we have for peace for all of Thedas. My own safety means nothing in the face of that. Besides, I’ll have the two of you at my side, won’t I?” The Divine smiled as if she’d just told a joke that only she found funny.

Cassandra’s face fell. Leliana understood the feeling well. She’d made the same arguments for days now, the uncertainty and fear brewing in her core over the Divine’s decision. There were so many variables, so much potential danger. 

She forced herself to push it down, smothering it with determination. She would make it work. She would make sure it went well. Even if it didn’t, she would personally see the Divine out safely. There was no other option.

Cassandra did not stop, continuing her argument from a different angle, to the surprise of nobody in the room. It was only the three of them here in the Divine’s chambers, so there was nobody to judge her (word).

Leliana kept quiet. She knew by this point there was nothing anyone could say to sway the Divine’s mind. She was not entirely wrong, after all. This war had claimed countless lives already. The destruction it could cause across Thedas if left unchecked was...not a pleasant thought.

_Clink_

A noise pulled her from her thoughts, standing out against the background of the argument in front of her. She kept her eyes carefully trained on the two other women as their conversation continued, but she heard none of it. The sound had been faint, nearly too faint for her human ears, but it was there. She had spent enough time here to learn the habits of the occupants, the schedules, the daily expectations. She knew the sounds of the soft footsteps of chantry sisters, the heavier ones of the armored guards, the near silent ones of her own agents. Many she recognized individually; The Divine moved more slowly than many in the Chantry, but without hesitation. Cassandra had a unique brand of sure, heavy steps, with no regard for subtlety. She knew the clink of standard armor with movement, the smells of incense in the halls, the swish of the heavy fabrics used for most Chantry robes.

She also knew the sound of metal sliding from a sheath, of soft exhales and slow movements from behind.

Whatever this was, it was none of these things.

Cassandra was not subtle nor particularly quiet, but she most certainly had her strengths. Accidental distraction, was, it seemed, one of them. 

Leliana took the moment to make her way towards the noise, slowly, nonchalantly. Through an archway near the back of a room, towards a small hall, with an alcove with windows normally occupied by one or two guards. It was empty today.

There were no scuff marks, no signs of a struggle, no nicks in the window, which was neatly closed as always (though the latch was undone). Later, in her investigation before their departure for the Conclave, she would discover a stray bird inside the building had apparently caused a distraction after causing quite a mess, disrupting normal routines as each person in the building apparently took their turn trying to catch the damned thing. Nobody saw or heard anything else strange. Nothing would be missing or out of place. As far as anybody could tell, there was not a single person there who should not have been.

If only they hadn’t left a strange little souvenir. 

Bone, if she had to guess, though she could not tell what it came from. A sharpened tip, clearly broken off from the whole. Fractured from a tooth or claw of a wild animal, perhaps. An accessory one might see on an eccentric Orlesian noble, perhaps, or a decoration used by a Chasind, but certainly not on any member of the Chantry.

A stranger, this far in, this close to the Divine. Possibly still there, just out of sight. 

She redid the latch on the window, pocketed the bone, and quickly returned to the other women. It did not matter who it was, for the moment. She would discover them in time. For now, the Divine’s safety was her top priority. 

***

She hated him.

She had seen his face before, when they dragged his body from the ruins of the Conclave, but he had been unconscious then, slack and unresponsive. It was different now, as he struggled his way back to the waking world, away from the dreams of the fade. No longer a corpse with a technically beating heart, but a person.

A murderer. 

He kneeled in front of them, dried blood mixing with dirt on his face and clothes. There were tears and scuffs in multiple places across the fabric and leather that made up his clothes and armor, and no doubt several minor injuries underneath it all from whatever fight he’d been in.

An experienced fighter, no doubt. He’d been found with no weapons, but the sheaths were still strapped to his back and thigh. He wore light armor, largely foreign to her, though she’d seen similar designs in the few Dalish clans she’d met over the years. 

His head jerked up slightly as he first awoke, his face further confirming his origins, the intricate and deep red tattoo unmistakable. 

She watched as his eyes scanned the room, his expression quickly hardening into something unreadable. He did not meet their eyes, though the elf still held himself proudly. He did not look down, out of fear or shame or anything else, but rather to the side, carefully avoiding any eye contact. Ignoring the armed guards surrounding him. Acting as if the sword Cassandra placed on his throat was not even there. As if he were not on the verge of death at the hands of any person in this room.

If she did not hate him, if she did not wish for his death, she would have been almost impressed.

Her own face stayed passive. If anyone cared to look, her clenched fists would have been the only sign of her true feelings. She watched as Cassandra circled him, interrogated him, yelled at him, threatened him. He never responded. 

Cassandra only grew angrier, fury twisting her judgement. She grabbed him by the collar, dragging him up to eye level as she slammed him into the wall. Leliana heard a quiet gasp from the pain and shock as Cassandra pushed into his neck.

Still, he said nothing. He looked past her, just over her shoulder, even as he choked. 

A distant, rational part of Leliana knew she should stop her. Knew they needed him and his strange mark, and whatever information he may have. She _knew_ that.

She just didn’t care. 

His hand flashed with light ever so slightly, the strange mark making itself known. She couldn’t help but look, her gaze snapping to his hands bound at his waist.

And she saw them.

They had checked for weapons, notes, or anything that might identify him beyond the obvious, but ignored anything else.

She had only a moment to glance as they brought him in. Relied on others to hold him and check him as she desperately fought to rein in the situation. She’d missed it completely.

Bones, hanging from his waist. Two of them, smooth and sharpened, like teeth or claws of a killed beast. 

One of them was chipped, the tip missing. 

Time slowed to a crawl. Her breath caught in her throat, for just a moment.

It was him. He had been there, in the Divine’s chambers. An unseen intruder. He could have stolen something precious, he could have killed her. He could have wrought chaos.

Why didn’t he?

A million questions raced through her mind. Why go to so much effort to do nothing? Why was he here at all? Why was he the only survivor? 

There was a spark, just for a moment. A reminder of her duty. 

“Cassandra, stop!” 

She gripped Cassandra’s arm, ripping her away from the prisoner. Normally it would not be so easy, not against a warrior like the Seeker, but this time she caught her by surprise. The prisoner dropped to the ground, hitting it hard as he took deep, ragged breaths. 

“We need him,” Leliana said, as calmly as she could manage. Cassandra’s angry expression melted away just a touch with the reminder, and she backed away.

Leliana approached slowly, hands carefully held to the side, visible and weapon free. For the first time, the elf was looking down, still breathing hard.

“Please, tell us what you know.”

A beat. Nothing happened.

Another. The silence was strange, uncomfortable, tense.

Until, finally, he looked up.

***

It was a strangely calm day at Skyhold. The sun was shining and the castle was largely quiet, a nice change of pace from usual. Even the few nobles roaming the halls seemed less inclined to gossiping and backstabbing than usual. If only for the moment. 

Leliana herself had spent most of the day in the rookery. There were still reports coming in, responses that needed to be sent out, decisions to be made. A few agents had come and gone, and her desk had developed a pile of papers that threatened to become sentient if it became much larger.

She couldn’t find it in her to really mind. She was calm. Content, even, in a way. 

She allowed herself a moment to relax, stretching and leaning back, eyes closed. A quick but needed break. As she opened her eyes they drifted past the paperwork, to the unused drawers.

Well, mostly unused. 

Ah. She’d almost forgotten that was there. 

A smile quirked up on her face. It was as good a time as any.

The Inquisitor was not a hard man to find, though she knew he took pride in thinking that he was. In fairness, most people did struggle to learn his habits. But nobody could ever truly be completely unpredictable. She knew he enjoyed moments of solitude and had found increasingly bizarre spots throughout Skyhold to afford him that privacy. 

Considering how calm the day was and the temporary break from dire news however...she could guess where he was.

She enjoyed the looks on the faces of nobles as she strode boldly through the entrance to his quarters. Josephine would scold her for it later, but she let herself have the moment for now. 

The stairs leading to his actual room had been reinforced, but beyond that no work had been done in the stairwell. It was bare, leftover scaffolding still taking up most of the space. The Inquisitor had made it very clear he did not care. Nobody else who might care would ever be in here, after all. 

She knocked when she finally reached the top. 

“Come in,” he called, though he sounded distracted.

The cause was obvious once she was inside and had a full view of his armor and weapons scattered throughout the room, surrounded by various clothes and oils and a few dirty rags abandoned on the floor. 

The Inquisitor himself stood by his blades, carefully wiping them down. She rarely saw him in action, but she was aware of how deadly he could be when wielding them. She saw the reports of the aftermath, after all.

They were there too, laid on top of neatly folded clothes. Two bones, normally tied to his waist, one with a broken tip.

“You realize we have people whose entire jobs consist of creating and caring for Inquisition weapons and armor, correct?”

He glanced at her with a look of disbelief.

“This was a gift from my clan. Do you know how the clan’s Crafter would react if he found out I let a shem care for these? I would never live it down. No offense,” He offered the last words as a clear afterthought. 

“Of course,” She responded with heavy sarcasm. He gave a small smile, but kept his gaze on his work.

“Did you come up here to judge my habits? Or did Josephine find out what I said to the Lord?”

“Which one?”

“Does it matter?”

“Probably. But I’ll let Josephine give that lecture. No, I actually came here to return something to you.”

“What?” 

That was enough to get his attention. He looked at her quizzically, laying his weapons down as she pulled the object out of her pocket, holding it out to him. 

“I believe you left this behind.”

It was, quite frankly, hilarious to watch. His face shifted from confusion to realization to embarrassment, his eyes avoiding hers as he turned a slight shade of red. She made no effort to break the awkward silence, content to enjoy his suffering.

“I’d wondered...not my best work, I’ll admit. I was...sloppy. I think that’s the right word.” He said after finally managing to meet her eyes.

She shook her head.

“I disagree. You snuck into one of the most heavily guarded buildings in all of orlais, past agents I helped train personally, into the private quarters of perhaps the most powerful person in all of Thedas. And you escaped without a scratch.”

“So...you returned this to compliment me? I appreciate it, I suppose.”

“I assumed it was something important,” She said as she handed it over, “it seemed wrong to hold on to it any longer.”

“Important? In a sense, I suppose.”

“In a sense?” She asked. He shrugged.

“It has no great spiritual or religious importance, if that’s what you meant. It’s a small tradition in my clan, is all. Truthfully I don’t even know if any other clans practice it. It might be just us,” He chuckled as he casually tossed the bone fragment next to the others.

“Yet it’s important enough that you keep them on you at all times.” She was surprised to see the red tint to his skin that had started to fade, return. She raised an eyebrow.

“What tradition is this, exactly?”

He cleared his throat.

“Well,” he paused for a moment, as if searching for the right words, “do you know how the Dalish earn their Vallaslin?”

She hadn’t expected that.

“A sort of test, correct?”

“Yes. What you do to earn your Vallaslin is different depending on your...occupation, so to speak. If you have apprenticed under a Crafter- a blacksmith- then they would be the one to give you your test, and determine if you succeed. As you know, I am-was-a hunter and scout for my clan. Our ‘test,’ therefore, involves a hunt.”

Leliana furrowed her brows.

“I met a Dalish man who was in the middle of such a thing, once. He was only looking for something like a deer.” She gestured to the bones. “Those do not look like they belonged to a deer.”

The Inquisitor nodded, his expression turning a little sheepish.

“You’re right, most go after something simple and useful. Animals like that are our most common prey for a reason, after all.” He shrugged. “Anyway-your first hunt, the one that earns your place in the clan, is incredibly important. Because of this it’s become something of a tradition to keep a small part of the animal you killed. Generally bone since that’s what will keep best. It becomes something of a…”

He struggled for words again, probably translating in his head to find something that made sense.

“...good luck charm. Hunters often keep it on them while they work. Those who have not yet earned their place do not have their own yet. So, older hunters, the mentors, will pass their own charm on to young elves on their first hunt. If they succeed, they keep it.”

“So one of those is from your own hunt, and one from your mentor?” Leliana asked.

“My mother, though she was my mentor in that aspect, so yes. That one-” he pointed to the whole one, “was hers. The other is my own.”

“It was yours that broke…”

He only shrugged again, apparently uncaring. He turned back to his equipment. Not ignoring her, but taking the opportunity to return to his task.

“I do appreciate you thinking to bring it back,” He said over his shoulder.

He made no move to dismiss her, so Leliana took the opportunity to pause and gather her own thoughts. When she spoke again, she spoke slowly and carefully.

“Truthfully, Inquisitor, my reasons for returning were at least partially selfish.”

“Oh?” He responded, only half listening by now. She watched him work for a moment, taking her turn to debate her words.

“I wanted you dead when I first saw you.”

He froze, but only for a moment. It wasn’t something he needed to be told in order to know. How long had it taken them to convince him to help? That they _didn’t_ want him dead? 

“I believed you had killed the Divine, after all. I was so certain. It couldn’t have been anyone else. 

Until I saw that bone. Until I realized you were the one who slipped by me.”

He choked on a laugh.

“How could that have changed your mind? I would have thought that would make you more suspicious of me.”

“On the contrary. It made me trust you.”

She turned towards the window, catching a glimpse of the expansive view of skyhold from the Inquisitor’s balcony. It really was a beautiful day.

“Losing the Divine...well, we’ve already discussed that quite a bit, haven’t we? I did not know how to handle it. How to handle my faith. I was completely lost. I felt truly abandoned.

And then I saw your ‘good luck charm.’ I realized it was you. You who broke in. You who escaped. You who came so close to being able to kill the Divine then and there.”

“I wasn’t there to hurt anyone, Leliana,” The Inquisitor cut in, tone serious. She put up a hand to stop him from continuing.

“I know,” she assured him, “and I don’t need to know what your mission was that day. That’s my point. You could have done any number of horrible things..but you didn’t. You didn’t even try. 

I know it sounds strange, ridiculous even, but seeing you there, the coincidence of it all, it reminded me of something else. For just a moment, I was in a different place. Ten years younger, driven by nothing but faith, and still so sure of myself, of my path. It was the same, then. A dark time, broken by a single moment. A moment that most found unremarkable, that could have gone any number of ways. A moment driven by a single person who most found unremarkable that completely changed the course of my life.

When I made that connection, I felt a hint of that faith all over again. A ray of light and hope in dark times. A path set for me by the Maker.”

She risked a look, only to find the Inquisitor’s expression strangely guarded. An uncomfortable realization hit her.

“Don’t misunderstand, I’m well aware you don’t share those beliefs. I have no intention to try and convert you. I just want you to understand how important it was for me. Like a sign. A sign that I had...a chance. That we all had a chance.” 

She sighed. 

“I know how stressful this all is for you. I know it’s not a position you ever wanted. But I can’t imagine anyone else doing it. I’m glad it was you, is what I mean to say, I suppose. I’m grateful.”

The Inquisitor gave a strained smiled. It would be a lie to say it didn’t hurt Leliana just a little to see how he avoided her gaze.

“Don’t thank me yet, Spymaster. I don’t think we can judge my performance until it’s over.”

“Perhaps. But if anyone gives us a fighting chance, it’s you.”

“...Thank you. I appreciate it.” 

She relaxed as he looked at her again, his tone sincere. She threw him a smile of her own before making her way back towards the door.

“I will leave you to your work then.”

She froze, mid step, a thought entering her mind.

“Before I forget. I can’t help but notice, you never did tell me what animals these charms came from.”

He smiled, the sheepish expression returning. 

“No, they don’t.”

She stared expectantly, suddenly completely imobile, waiting for him to break. It didn’t take long.

“My mother’s is a bear tooth.”

“A bear??”

“It’s not so surprising when you know her.”

Leliana shook her head. 

“So you took down a bear too? Like mother like son?” She said, a little amused and impressed despite herself. 

He chuckled, but shook his head. 

“What did you kill to earn your Vallaslin, then?”

“Well…” He smiled, sharply this time, a predatory look she would later realize was usually reserved for those about to be on the receiving end of his weapons.

“A wolf.”


End file.
